“Oh, we’ve been to sea before,” said Vince rather contemptuously.
“And you like ze sea, n’est-ce pas—is it not so?”
“Oh yes; we like the sea,” said Vince. “It is good,” said the captain, clapping him on the shoulder. “Zen you sall help me. You say no at ze beginning, but bah! a boy—two boy like you brave garçons—vill not cry to go home to ze muzzer. It is a fine sing to have a luggar of tree mast like zis, and you sall bose make you fortune ven I have done.”
He nodded and turned away, leaving the boys to stand looking at each other aghast, and forgetting all about the state of the sea, till a big wave came over the bows and made them seek for shelter.
They saw but little of the captain that day, except at meal-times, when he was good-humoured and jocose with them in spite of the fact that the weather did not mend in the least. Then the next day passed, and the next, with the wind not so violent, but the sea continued rough, and the constant misty rain kept them for the most part below. The crew were civil enough, and chatted with them when they did not ask questions; but failing to obtain any information from them as to their destination, Vince agreed with Mike that one of them should ask the captain where they were going to first. So that evening, when they were sailing slowly in a north-easterly direction, after being driven here and there by contrary winds, they waited their opportunity, and upon the captain coming up to them Vince began at once with,—
“Where are we going to first, captain?”
“Eh? you vant to know?” he said. “Vell, you sall. In zere.” The boys looked sharply in the direction pointed out but could see nothing for the misty rain which drifted slowly across the sea.
“Where’s in there?” said Mike.
“You are not good sailore yet, mon ami, or you vould have study our course. I vill tell you. You look over ze most left, and you vill see ze land of ze fat, heavy Dutchmans.”
“What, Holland?” cried Vince eagerly.